Apple of My Eye
by WngedFerret4210
Summary: Sam and Dean pick up an honor student in grad school... but she's not what she seems to be. My first fanfic, please don't judge!


You wipe sweat off your forehead with a bug spray-covered hand, getting the sticky substance all over your face. Fingering the pentogram necklace around your neck, you huff and think about all the time you can be spending watching Supernatural at home. _Why did I agree to this?_ You think to yourself as you spread fertilizer across the well-tended to garden. Money was what you needed, and lawn care was your solution.

You had a college degree in medical fields and law, but you didn't know how to use them. The consequence? This stupid job in this stupid town. You sigh and reach for the bag again.

 _Another day, another lawn._

"So… We're picking up some kind of a nerd?" Dean asked Sam skeptically from the driver's side of Baby.

A huff issued from Sam as he tried to explain why, but only got sarcastic remarks back.

"Another one of your kind, then? Exited yet?"

"Shut up, Dean."

"Really, though, where is this Mrs. (Y/N)?"

"Florida. Bring sweatpants." Sam replied.

"Bring it on."

The next day brought a Monday, back to your stupid college dorm and your stupid classes with their stupid work. Stupid.

During your Advanced Geometry class, a knock was produced at the door. Your head was down, and you didn't really care about who it was, as long as they got out and let you resume your non-concentration. Your teacher assigned a kid in the front row whom everyone called Jerkins to open the door.

"We're looking for a Mrs. (Y/N), is she in this class?" a voice said in the front of the room, where the door was.

"Here and reporting for duty", you awnsered lazily from your desk, raising a hand and letting it tuck back into it's hiding place.

"We need you to come with us." The unnamed voice said; it was a command.

Raising your head slightly to see who it was, you instantly bit your tongue to keep another sarcastic remark from escaping your mouth. Why would this happen to _you,_ of all people? It was Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, except that they were in their respective Sam and Dean outfits.

And they were here to take you away.

Instinctively rubbing the pentogram around your neck, you ever so slowly rose from your chair, absentmindedly pushing all your belongings into your bookbag with your free hand. _I'mbiengpickedupbySamandDeanWinchesterongomgomgomg_

Was all that was going on in your head. You could feel your cheeks burning, you could practically see the redness in your face, everyone was staring at you, why am I bieng stared at? Oh yeah, because I'm acting like an idiot.

"Mrs, if you please, we're kind of in a rush" Jared said.

"O-Of course!" was all that you could stammer out, while picking up speed so you would reach the actors faster.

In the hallway, they both chatted for a while, silently and discreetly.

"Jared?" you asked testily, wanting to know if he would react. They both looked at you, Jensen raising his eyebrows.

"Are you okay? There's noone else in this hallway…"

 _Oh god these arent the actors they're Sam and Dean…_

"Uhhh. Sam?" you now ask.

"Crap, Dean. Test her."

As Dean advanced with a silver knife, you used what knowledge you knew about the show to realize that they were only living in season 4. Sam's hair gave that away, as did the hand- shaped burns on Dean's arms.

"Have you found Castiel yet?" you ask frantically, backing into the wall and shrinking to the floor.

"What? Who's Castiel?" said Dean, struck slightly by surprise at your question.

You took the opportunity to slide out from the wall and grab the knife, now in control. "You really don't know yet? So you just crawled out of Hell?"

"Yeah… Sam, now!" Dean said, looking over his shoulder at Sam.

Sam threw holy water at you, which you allowed to splash you, knowing it wouldn't show any sign of demonic possesion.

"I wouldn't waste the holy water, if I were you. And, please, spare me the knife."

Sam and Dean both pulled you outside, the whole time asking questions.

"How do you know our names?" "Where are you from?" "What are you?"

You pushed your arm free of their tight grip, and held out your hand to the Impala, concentrating hard.

The engine started.

Dropping you and looking dumbfounded, the brothers immediately drew a hasty pentogram and pushed you into it. You rubbed your wrist as they made a circle of salt around that. Stepping out of both, you held out your hands and said, "If you don't stop thinking I'm some sort of a monster or a demon or a spirit or something, you might see what's right in front of you."

They both just stared, until finally Dean spoke up, saying,

"Then what _are_ you? Anything with mojo is bad in my books."

You drew a heavy breath, and explained,

"Where I come from, or where you are now, there's this TV show. And it's about your lives. I watch the TV show, hence this-"

You took off the pentogram necklace and showed it to both of them before putting it back on,

"And this."

You pulled the collar of your shirt down slightly to reveal the anti-possesian tattoo.

"And we should believe you… Why?" Sam asked.

"Because I can tell you things. _Show_ you things."

"Like…?"

"Your future."

Both the brothers looked at each other, then at you, then at each other, then at you, rinse and repeat.

"Okay. We're going to take you to Bobby now…"

At Bobby's, he performed every ritual necessary for them to treat you like an actual human again, all of which proved negative.

"Well, I don't see how she can be anything supernatural, we've done everything you can do, and nothing's worked. Now, you idgets get some rest, its 12 in the morning."

As you were led to the guest room, you strained your ears. You could've _sworn_ you heard a fluttering around the 5th ritual- Werewolf test.

Unpacking your things, which only consisted of your backpack and purse, you quickly salted your room with the everpresent bag in your backpack.

After everything was unpacked, you layed down to bed, floating off into sleep as the world got fuzzier and fuzzier. In fact, the world got so distorted that when you were almost asleep, you could've sworn you saw a man in a trench coat appear just before you closed your eyes, walking twards the door.

 _Ding, Ding, Ding._

"Tur' of the fire alrm" you mumbled sleepily from underneath the blankets.

"Rise and shine, Sammy," you hear from the next room over.

"Shut up, Dean."

"Jerk."  
"Too tired right now. And why is it-"

A pause.

"3:30 in the morning? Are you crazy, Dean?"

"Shut up, both of you." You shout from your room.

"Looks like (Y/N)'s up- that means you need to get up."

There was a faint "no" from Sam, and then a something that sounded suspiciously like a _plop_ from when someone falls off the bed.

"Really, Dean?" was a muffled and angry voice.

By now, you were up and smiling at yourself while pulling on work boots. You knew what the brothers did on a daily basis, and no _way_ would you wear your dinky little flip flops that they picked you up in. Walking into their room, you were met with the amusing spectacle of Sam on the floor, glaring at Dean and tangled in a heap of blankets while trying desperately to get out, and Dean taking pictures of it all from his bed. Seeing that you walked in, he hid the camera behind his back and smiled nervously at you,

"Soo… You're up early."

"Good morning to you, too."

"Shut it, (Y/N)."

You walked downstairs and to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, lord knows you need it. Noticing how empty the house was, save the Winchesters, you asked where Bobby was.

"Oh, he's out."

"So I gathered. Out _where_ , I mean?"

The brothers looked at each other, Sam now downstairs with Dean.

"On a hunt." They said simply.

"Oookay then, if you have noowhere else to be, then I think I'll go and practice."

"Practice what?"

You just laughed over your shoulder at them while going back upstairs, to the room you currently called yours.

The boys' question was quickly awnsered when a lamp came floating down the stairs, narrowly missing the wall multiple times.

While you had your eyes shut, the angel came.

And tried to kill you.

Sputtering for breath as he held you against the wall by your throat and pawing at his hands, the hovering lamp downstairs crashed to the floor. Sam and Dean immediately ran upstairs to see you being held against the wall, and Dean picked up a gun and shot. It didn't phase him. He did, however, turn his attention away from you for a second, which enabled you to rasp out a "Castiel".

"Who's this? (Y/N), where did he come from?" Dean demanded.

You were still rubbing your throat from where the angel had you pinned against the wall, and you barely managed to get out one word: Angel. Of course Sam and Dean instantly began arguing, "Angels aren't real" "Have a little faith", yada yada.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked shakily to Castiel.

"You need to be eliminated. The Lord says that all demons, even only half- demons, you are the latter, need to be eliminated."

"I call bull. No way is (Y/N) a half- demon, we tested her every way we could and nothing happened." Dean said angrily from where he was standing, still trying to get a grip on what was right in front of him.

"Why would you call a male cow? I do not understand." Castiel said, now turning entirely away from you.

You stifled a laugh, knowing that this cluelessness would only get worse.

"Its just an expression, angel-boy." Dean said, to which Sam promptly elbowed him in the side.

"Well, if you're done attempting to kill me for no reason whatsoever-"

"You must be eliminated."

"Yeah, I get that, but _why?_ I mean, if I haven't harmed anyone, then why should I be, quote on quote, _eliminated_?" You said desperately.

"Because, you are not human."

"How can _you_ tell, huh? How do I know you're not here to kill me for the thrill of it?"

"Fight me."

"What?"

"Fight me."

"Um… Okay, then…"

You slid out from against the wall and levitated a knife twards you, then tried to stab him. He parried easily, and you knew you were screwed. So, you and the angel fought, and when you finally got hurt, it healed. Instantly. Everyone stared at where the wound had been, and then, unmistakenly, something happened.

One eye flashed black. And one eye flashed white.


End file.
